A True Soldier of Hellsing
by GypsyReaper
Summary: The story of the attack by the Valentine brothers on the Hellsing mansion, as told through the eyes of one of the Hellsing soldiers.


Warning, This Story Contains: Violence, Language, Angst, O.C.

A True Soldier of Hellsing

The horizon is just beginning to lighten. The sounds of the other snoring men in the barracks prevent me from slipping back into unconsciousnous. Upon seeing the coming dawn, I realize it is quite futile to try and return to sleep. Soon the call will go out for the men to wake up, so I decide to just get up. Quietly I secure my uniform and make my way to the shower room, letting the warm water wake me up as it runs over my skin.

Soon I stand in front of a mirror, making sure everything is perfect. Hair combed, fingernails clean, the Hellsing badge straight on my jacket. I stand tall and straight, and can't help but beam with some pride at the Captain's stripes that adorn my arm, an accomplishment at least a decade in the making.

I run over the list of things to do in the coming day. Sir Integra has called a Round Table Conference, the first she has ever called since becoming Hellsing's commanding officer. I hope that the information she has collected and will present today will help with the recent outbreaks of freaks. I mull over it for a moment. Yes, there's been just too many damn cases of supernatural activity as of late. Hopefully the conference will put a stop to that.

I begin walking down the stone hallway back towards the barracks to wake up the men when I stop to look at a portrait of Sir Arthur, Sir Integra's father. I run a finger over the badge that proudly proclaims "We are on a mission from God." I have been a Hellsing soldier since Integra had come into power. In fact, I was one of the first men she had chosen to replace the old staff after her uncle's traitorous attacks. That and the time I was promoted to Captain are my two proudest moments.

"Being chosen by a little girl to be a body guard is a moment to be proud of, Captain Jon Nathans?" hisses a deep voice behind me. I may have jumped, but I was long used to Alucard's tackless attempts to scare me. I turn to man dressed in red and black and salute. "Have a good hunt, Alucard?" I ask.

The vampire shrugs. "These young vampires put me to shame. No magic, no familiars, no fun."

I try my best to look empathetic. "There's always next time," I offer.

"True," Alucard says, a little lacking in enthusiam. He looks me over, and grins, something that still makes my spine freeze for a moment, even after all this time. He places a finger on the Hellsing badge I wear, tracing its outline. "Why do you care, Nathans? You know she never speaks of you, or your accomplishments. You're nothing to her. So why do you spend all your effort to please a woman who would never glance your way in a hundred centuries?" He looks at me, crimson eyes flashing, thinking he's got me. But I simply grin back at him.

"To tell the truth, I'd be slightly worried if she did speak of me often, Alucard."

It works. Alucard looks at me strangly. "Really?" he asks, plainly curious.

"Of course. If a machine is working perfectly, no one speaks of it. Only when the machine is broken it is spoken of, and mechanics are called upon to fix it. If Sir Integra never talks of me, it means that I am doing my job right. If that is true, then I hope she never utters one syllable of my name until I die."

Alucard frowns for a moment, but then an actual smile spreads across his undead face. "Spoken like a true soldier of Hellsing," he says before disappearing into a wall. I am left alone in the hallway.

Perhaps one day he hopes to find some flaw in my loyalty, despite the decade I have been a Hellsing officer, for he always quesitons me like that. Both he and Walter are trapped here, for they are monsters, and that is the tie to their loyalty. Maybe Alucard cannot fathom why a man, a normal human, could offer such devotion to one person, to such a job like this. After all, who actually chooses to kill monsters for a living? I could easily give Sir Integra a resignation letter tomorrow and find work elsewhere. I have a freedom of choice in this matter, and he does not. Maybe that is why he continues to prod me, hoping I will say the wrong thing.

Too bad he will be disappointed with me. I gave my body and soul to Hellsing long ago.

By the time I stride into the barracks, the men are in various stages of getting up. A few that had planned on catching a few more winks hurridly wake up and go down to the shower room when they see me. They know I do not play when it came to being a soldier. "Rise and shine, boys," I say, clapping a few on the back as they pass me. "Another glorious day is upon us, gentlemen. We've got things to do today, and we can't do that if we drag our feet."

By this time all the men are up, and the room is mostly empty. However, as two younger boys pass me, one whispers to the other "Dammit. I just had unbottoned Seras lil' blouse too!"

"Jenkins," I say loudly, able to pick out his voice amongst a crowd long ago. I turn as he looks at me, standing at the door. "What?" he asked.

I motion for him to come back into the barracks, and wave away the other boy. "You do mean 'what is it, _sir_,' correct?"

Jenkins' normally bad attitude comes back like lightning. "What is it, _sir_?" he snips.

I walk forward and clasp a hand on his shoulder. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood this morning, Jenkins," I say, smiling yet beginning to squeeze his shoulder as I speak. "If I hear you speak anything crude like that to anyone about another person, especially a female officer, you'll be out of a job before the next sunset, understand?"

Jenkins glares at me, and shakes out of my grip. "You're just jealous that no one would want a old man like you," he snarls.

My eyes narrow. "Do you think that just because we're alone, your rank means nothing?" I say dangerously. Does he really want to get into an actual brawl with me? Not that I would ever embarass myself like that, but the idea certainly seems good. "Now, I must be more tired than I thought, because I must have just _imagined _that you talked back to me. Unless you want a month's docked pay and to be on permanent guard duty, I suggest you go take your shower and keep your disrepectful thoughts to yourself, understand?"

I can tell Jenkins is grinding his teeth, wishing to talk back but realizing he was in serious trouble if he did. "Yes, sir," he snaps.

"Good," I say. "Now, I don't think this little _misunderstanding _requires Sir Integra's attention, so as punishment, you'll be serving as guard on the second floor, understand?"

Jenkins opens his mouth to say something, decides against it, stiffly salutes, and stalks away to the showers. How such a crude man ever became a soldier of Sir Integra's I will never understand. No, that's not true. As long as you have good aim and nerves of steel, anyone can be a soldier, personality aside. Oh well. Having guard duty on the second floor will keep the unlikable man out of my way today, so that I am thankful for. It is going to a long day.

After the little talk with Jenkins, the rest of the day when according to plan. The mansion was running smoothly, and the members of the conference all arrived safely. There is no real trouble until the conference was well under way.

"Sir, there's two coaches outside the main gate," someone says. I turn and look at their monitor, suspicious. All the members were already here, so why are there tour buses outside?

"Mills, Davis," I call over the radios to the main gate guards. "What're those coaches doing here?"

"Dunno, sir, we're finding out now-" Davis is cut off, and on the screen, the room watches as his head explodes from a bullet. Two men, one in a white suit and another in a jump suit are standing before Mills. We couldn't hear, but the jumpsuit man snaps his fingers and a barage of bullets cuts Mills to ribbons. We're under attack!

"Call up First Bridage and tell them to move their asses down to the main hall," I roar over the ensuing chaos of men shouting orders into phones and radios. "Get Second and Third to cover them, now!"

"Oh God!" Someone shouts over the radios. Everyone stops in their tracks to hear the frightened man's screams. "The enemy! They're ghouls! It's an army of-AHHHHHHHHH!"

"Jesus Christ!" someone screams as we listen to the man's death screams echo over the radio, followed by loud crunching and growling.

I feel the vomit rise up my throat as we listen to other men's screams, ghouls growls, and the sounds that will haunt me forever: the sound of my men being eaten. Dear God, what is going on! I take a look at a nearby screen to see the main hallway filled with blood, body parts and ghouls. We had lost most of the men in a single swoop.

My legs feel weak, but I refuse to fall. The vomit in my throat makes me choke, but I swallow it back down. Many of the men in the room are either so shocked they cannot move, and a few pass out. A telephone rings, and it snaps out of my revere. "Control," I answer weakly.

"What's going on, Nathans?" asks the older voice at the end of the line.

"Walter!" I say, my mind finally clear from the last of the bloddy fog. "An army of ghouls have broken through, and are in the mansion. They've devastated the first floor already!"

"What about the conference room?" he asks.

"I don't think they've gotten that far," I say. "I'm sending all avaliable men to the second floor choke point. Is there any way for you and perhaps one of the vampires to cover the third floor?"

"Of course. Miss Victoria and I will protect the conference room," he says.

"Good, we'll cover you," I say, and hang up the phone. I look at the dozen men in the control room, all looking at me dazed but also grimly determined. "Get all the wepons you can carry, but don't slow yourself down. The ghouls will be here in a few seconds, so MOVE!" I roar.

There is a scramble of activity. One man tries to put his pistol to his head, but I grab his hand and take the gun. "We'll need the bullet," I say, and that gets him up and running. We run out of the control room and down the hall to the second floor stairs. As we run, I can hear the undead roars and snarls coming from the ghouls. I can also hear random gunshots and strangled screams below our feet. _Dear God, we're all going to die_, I realize as we run. I don't say anything, I simply run faster, as though to outrun my own dark thinkings.

The second floor is clear of blood and ghouls. They haven't made it this far yet. The men don't need me to tell them what to do; there is one way to the third floor, and we are in front of it. The men quickly begin loading their guns and taking anything-shelves or pillars-and making them into a makeshift wall. As we work, I begin to hear them; the snarling mass of undead soldiers out for blood.

The ghouls start to trickle down the hall. They're mowed down with full-automatic fire. However, I can see the glowing red eyes of the creatures, and now I understand what that man was thinking. Seeing their lumbering swagger, all holding guns and some holding full body shields, coming towards us makes me wish to give up to the cold snake curling in my gut and making me wish to piss myself and run away. However, I hold my ground. I won't give up. Not until my limbs are broken and my eyes are blind and my ears are deaf will I give up. Even then I will continue to fight. I will fight for my queen, my country, my commander until my last breath.

The army is before us. Ghouls fall, men fall, bullets rain down blood and flesh. My own .45 echoes in the hall. Unlike the other men, I have no automatic.

I remembered suddenly when I was on the training grounds and someone asked why I didn't carry an automatic. "It only takes one bullet to kill a ghoul," I explained. "Either here," I pointed to my head. "Or here," I pointed to my heart. "With an automatic, there's no gaurentee you'll kill the damn thing. After all, a ghoul only needs a mouth to be a deadly threat. No point in wasting bullets to rip it to shreds when one bullet kills it gaurenteed."

That wisdom is true now. Some of the ghouls hit by the machine guns' fire are still able to crawl towards our line of defense. All of my kills stay down for good. All are head shots, five through the forehead, one through the eye. I have just relouded a fresh clip when the ghouls finally lunge for us. Now there are only half a dozen of us, and the ghouls are still numerous. The bastards all fall on one man, who screams in agony as they begin to eat him. A bullet though the head puts him out of his pain.

"There's too damn many!" Someone shouts, his gun decapitating the monsters.

"We have to hold them off long as possible!" I shout, kicking at a ghoul that has crawled up and tries to bite me. I kill it quickly. Blood splatters my uniform. I won't admit defeat. Yes, we are outnumbered, but we can do this. After all, ghouls are just ghouls. Walking mouths, nothing more. Like those old zombie films always say: "Remove the head or destroy the brain."

"Fuck this shit, let's just kill them all!" Someone shouts, and something flys over my into the crowd of approaching ghouls. I just have enough time to duck my head before the ensuing explosion. Damned fool, he's just killed us all!-

The pain in my leg wakes me from my black out. It feels like something is-

"Fuck!" I scream when I see the ghoul currently eating my leg. I pull out my gun and put a bullet in its eye. Fuck!

"Jesus!" I see black spots at the edge of my vision. I peer down at my leg, and am thankful that not too much flesh is missing, maybe a bite or so.

The hallway is deathly silent. Except for the ghoul that had been trying to have me for its entree, I am the only thing alive in the hall. I can't make out too many more sounds above or below me. Wait, there. I strain my ears and here it again. Above me. The growls of ghouls.

"Dammit," I hiss through the pain. "They're on the third floor!" I look past the bloodbath I'm currently sitting in and see the phone on the table. The table about ten feet from me and three feet over the floor. Sounds like a long ways off. "I've got...to warn Sir Integra!" I say, and begin to attempt to crawl to the phone.

My leg makes me shout aloud, but another pain in my gut makes me pause. I had't noticed the bullet wound earlier, the adreneline in my system kept me from feeling it. My uniform is soaked. No wonder I feel disoriented. But I won't let that stop me. Not until I actually die will I give up. I have to warn her!

Taking a disgarded clip, I place it in my mouth and bite down as I begin my hellish crawl down the hall, inching my way through the blinding, killing pain and pools of blood. I won't be surprised if there are teeth impressions in the clip.

There seems to be no time. I cannot tell how fast I was moving, I just hope it is fast enough. Is Walter and Offier Victoria there yet? I pray so. I am about three feet from the phone when I hear something behind me. I turn to see a shape dragging itself along my blood trail. It looks up at me with cold red eyes. Goddam ghoul!

I hustle my last three feet. I pull myself up into a painful sitting position beside the table. I grap the reciever and place it to my hear, and hear...nothing.

"Dammit!" I cry. All this effort was wasted. The phone is dead. I can't warn her. I look at the ghoul crawling ever closer in its search for flesh. I had let her down. The time she really needed me, and I had failed. I look down to see my revolver still in my hand. I open the chamber and clip. There's one bullet left.

I press the gun to my temple. I'm not going to let her down again. This is all my fault. I'll take the blame. I'm so sorry, Sir Integra.

I glance again at the creature, and see the name "Jenkins" patched onto its jacket.

I simply can't resist.

Bang!

The creature falls. I drop the useless pistol. Above me, I hear what sounds like a crack of thunder. The Harkonnen! Walter and Seras had made it, after all. Sir Integra is still safe.

The sound of boots wakes me. I am severly dioriented; I cannot tell where the ceiling ends and the wall begins. My throat burns with the metallic taste of my own blood. Even the most hardened of men will cringe at such a taste. I am no different.

_There's a bullet in your stomach, and half your leg is missing _says a voice. I can't tell if it was spoken, or if it was in my mind.

_Really? And to think I thought it was only a severe charlie horse_, I think. Alucard can read my mind as easily as he can listen. I hear a chuckle above me. Ah, yes. If I squint, I can make out his red form over me. Of course the blood in my eye makes everything look red.

_You used your last bullet on it. _

_I simply couldn't resist._

"This is a different type of ghoul. Soon you'll become one yourself. A self-perpetuating army, with no vampires needed," Alucard says.

"Is she...safe?" I ask.

"Sir Integra and the rest of the table members are safe. Walter and the Policegirl were able to destory them."

"Good..." I croak. I cough violently for a moment. "Alucard," I sputter after I spit out the wad of blood. "I don't have any more bullets."

I don't need to see him to know he's grinning at me. "Are you giving up?" he asks.

I shake my head slowly. "No. I've done...my duty. Sir Integra is...safe now. I will not...endagner her in this way. Not like this."

"Spoken like a true soldier of Hellsing."

The cool muzzle of his gun kisses my forhead. "I've slaughtered many monsters, and euthenized many dogs, but you are the first man I have laid to rest, Captain Jon Nathans," the vampire says.

I've done my duty like a good soldier. My queen, county, and commander are still safe.

I smile.

Click-


End file.
